


fresh morning in the broken world

by remy (iamremy)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s14e20 Moriah, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: s14e20 Moriah, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 04:07:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20867933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/remy
Summary: “Dean? What if we’re only soulmates ‘cause Chuck thought it’d be funny?”Dean’s hands go completely still on Sam’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”Sam bites his lip, looks away. “I just mean… our whole lives have just been a story to him, right? What if he made us soulmates ‘cause he thought, I don’t know, it’d be dramatic or a plot twist, or whatever?”--Sam worries. Dean reassures. They cope.





	fresh morning in the broken world

**Author's Note:**

> i meant to write this right after the finale whoops ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
better late than never, though, right?
> 
> title from the following quote by mary oliver: "it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world."

“Dean? What if we’re only soulmates ‘cause Chuck thought it’d be funny?”

Dean’s hands go completely still on Sam’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”

Sam bites his lip, looks away. “I just mean… our whole lives have just been a story to him, right? What if he made us soulmates ‘cause he thought, I don’t know, it’d be dramatic or a plot twist, or whatever?”

Dean lets out a slow exhale, and then resumes fixing Sam’s bullet wound up, partly to get it over with, and partly to buy himself some time to think. Sam doesn’t push either, just goes still and lets Dean tape gauze over the now-clean wound. He flinches a little when Dean accidentally presses down too hard on it, but is otherwise quiet.

“Does it hurt?” Dean asks, sticking one last piece of tape over the gauze and leaning back. “More than a regular bullet wound, I mean?”

“Guess I’ll find out when the painkillers wear off,” Sam answers, shrugging with his uninjured shoulder. He’s trying to be brave, Dean knows, but the distress and uncertainty are clear in his eyes, and it makes Dean’s chest hurt.

Sam is sitting on the hood of the Impala, feet braced on the bumper, and Dean puts the first aid kit aside to sit down next to him. “What a clusterfuck, huh?”

Sam makes a noise of agreement but doesn’t speak. He’s staring out in the distance without actually seeing anything, and in the muted morning light the shadows under his eyes stand out in stark contrast against his pale face. He looks haunted, thinks Dean, shoulders hunched under the weight of everything they’ve just discovered, and the grief of losing Jack on top of it all. Especially his eyes, Dean notes – a dull, murky hazel instead of the bright swirl of colors Dean’s accustomed to.

But his jaw is set in a sort of resigned determination, and he’s holding his back straight despite the pain he must be in, and even though his nose and cheeks are pink the way they are when he’s trying not to cry, his eyes remain dry. And in spite of everything, the way he looks right now, sitting there with his shirt unbuttoned and hanging off one shoulder, skin pale and bloodied, jaw stubbled and eyes hollow – he’s still beautiful.

He’s still beautiful, and brave, and strong, and Dean has never loved him more.

“Sammy,” he says quietly, putting his hand over Sam’s. “Sammy, hey.”

His brother turns to look at him, and Dean gives him the softest smile he can muster up right now. “It doesn’t matter,” he says.

“What?” asks Sam, frowning.

“It doesn’t matter why he made us soulmates,” Dean clarifies. “I don’t care why. It doesn’t change a thing, okay? It doesn’t change who we are, and it doesn’t change a damn thing about the way I feel about you. That’s _never_ going to change.”

Sam considers this, biting at his lip thoughtfully. Dean watches him think for a few moments, the gears in his brain turning, his brow furrowed the way it is when he’s focusing really hard on something. He hopes Sam understands what he’s saying.

“I just need to know it’s real,” Sam says in the end. He turns his hand under Dean’s and laces their fingers together.

“Does it feel real to you?” Dean asks, stroking his thumb down Sam’s hand.

Sam takes in a deep breath, and then lets it out, his whole body relaxing on the exhale. “Yeah,” he says quietly, leaning in so that his uninjured side is pressed against Dean’s. “Nothing has ever felt realer to me than you, Dean.”

“Then it’s real,” Dean says simply. “I don’t care why he did it, Sam. Doesn’t make it not true, the way I feel. He doesn’t get to ruin this for us, okay? He doesn’t get to take this away from us.”

Sam nods, expression hardening into that stubborn set of his jaw that’s both endearing and also the reason Dean is starting to get gray hair. “It’s not his to take,” Sam says. “It’s not – it’s not _his_.”

“Damn right,” says Dean with a proud smile, and raises their joined hands so he can press Sam’s bruised knuckles to his lips. “Damn right it ain’t, Sammy. It’s _ours_, and ain’t shit he can do about it.”

Everything they’ve ever known has turned out to be a lie, a story made up for the amusement of a sick, twisted, _bored_ deity. Dean knows it should feel worse than it does. He should feel like his world has ended – because, for all intents and purposes, it _has_. He should feel like all of his pain and suffering has been for nothing – because it _has_. Everything should feel hopeless, desaturated, unreal.

But Sam’s body is solid against his, and his hand is warm in Dean’s, and even in the pale morning after the worst night of his life, he still remains the realest, most beautiful thing in Dean’s world, the brightest part of his soul. They’ve got a long, _long_ road ahead of them, and the world weighs heavy on their backs, but Dean knows that as long as they’re breathing, they’re going to keep fighting, and they’re going to do it _together_.

And no one, not even Chuck, gets to take that away from them.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback would be extremely appreciated! you can also find a rebloggable version of this post on my [tumblr](https://chesterbennington.co.vu/post/188091829918/dean-what-if-were-only-soulmates-cause-chuck).
> 
> love,  
remy


End file.
